I love you
by CindyBaby
Summary: Is love enough? T for sensitive subject.


**Today it's been four years since my uncle died. He took his own life. I want to dedicate this story to him. Please remember, no matter how hard it seems, it's never to late to get help. I also want to say that this story has been inspired by another one, I can't remember the name, but I think that fic was inspired by a youtube clip of Bobby/Jack to the song "Who you'd be today" by Kenny Chesney. That's how I found this song, and was inspired to write this story. If you haven't heard you should listen to it, warning for a flow of tears. So anyway I want to thank the unknown author of that fic and the one who made the video, cause they were both so good it made me cry. I don't own four brothers.**

I never thought I could feel this way again. I never thought that I would ever feel this hopelessness in my chest, making it hard to breathe, threatening to suffocate me. The noises around me have faded to a dull roar in the back of my mind, the light hurts my eyes so I close them, wishing that by that simple action I can block out the sight of where we are. I can't. There's no escaping this.

My first reaction was panic. It swallowed me whole, but I managed to get it together. After a few hours, the anger came. That's how I deal. I punch and destroy things. I left a small destruction in my wake and it took all of Ma's gentle coaxing to calm me down. It took her even longer to reassure the staff that we would pay for the damages, and that I would be calm, there was no need to throw me out.

Now... now I wonder if this is how he felt, how he feels, I correct myself. He's still here, he's not gone. Does he feel like this everyday, every hour of every day filled with this darkness, this pain... So many times I told him that I understood, and that we were so alike, and we are, it almost scares me sometimes how much he reminds me of myself. But then he does something, something so unlike me, and I see that despite the fact that we both have had a shitty childhood, he's dealt with it differently than me. I take my anger out on things around me, where Jack hurts himself instead. I know that despite his constant battle to be numb, he wants to feel. I know he cuts himself because he can feel it, and he controls it, unlike the pain that still lingers in his mind. It's all part of the complicated puzzle that is my little brother.

A sob beside me bring me back to the present and I turn my head to look at Ma, and my own tears threaten to come but I push them back. This is hard for her, it's hard for all of us, we all blame ourselves. I put my arm around her and she leans her head against my shoulder, sobbing quietly. I need to be strong, I can't break now. In my mind memories of Jack are playing, and I hear his laughter, so happy. Why couldn't he stay that way?

Of course I knew better than most that the ghosts of the past dosen't stay buried just because you don't want them around.

When the doctor finally comes to see us we're all on the verge of breaking down, again in my case. His somber look tells me nothing and I listen intently, Ma still under my arm facing the doctor, trying to remember all that he's saying so that I'll know what to do. _He was brought here just in time... lost a lot of blood... blood transfusion... still asleep... his body will heal, but we need to talk about Jack's mental health..._

One at a time we can see him, Ma insist that I go first while she talks to the doctor. After a nod from my other brothers I agree. I really want to see him, but when I do, all I want to do is cry... and I do. Sitting at my little brothers bedside brings back so many memories, so many other times when I've been here, not exactly here, but by his side. He's pale, even more than usual, and I know it's because he lost a lost of blood before I found him. I push the image of him bleeding on the floor of an unknown house away, but my eyes are drawn to the bandage around his wrists. I reach out a hand and notice that it's trembling. When I touch the white at his wrists the tears come.

Right from the start I saw him as my little brother, and I loved him. It hurts me almost more than I can take that I couldn't prevent this, that we, that I, wasn't enough.

I stroke his hair back. It's messy like always. I wonder what he was thinking when he pushed that blade deep in his arms. Was he scared? Did he think of me? Don't he know that I would die if anything ever happened to him? I want to help him so much, but this can't be solved with fists. If it could I would have done it already, if I thought that violence was the answer I would do it, no questions asked. I would do anything for him, die for him, kill for him. He never needs to ask.

It's late in the night when Jack wakes. I'm the only one awake. We managed to convince the doc that we all needed to stay in Jack's room. He agreed, mostly because I think he has a soft spot for Ma.

Jack's eyes flutter open and I see him blink at the light before he turns to me. For a few seconds he seems confused and then it's like a curtain falls over his eyes. As our eyes hold I can't help but think that he looks broken. He does, and it destroys me. He probably never expected to see me again, at least not in this life. I can see the shame fill his eyes and I know what he's thinking, because wheter he belives it or not, I know him. I know my brother. The tears fill his eyes and he turns his head away from me, and my heart clench.

"Hey" My voice is only a whisper, but he meets my eyes again, the pain in his blue ones enough to make me want to scream and rage and kill everyone who ever hurt him, anyone who ever even thought of hurting him. I want to tell him that I'll always carry him with me, no matter what, no matter where I go or whatever happens, every step I take on this earth he'll be in my thoughts, but that's not what he needs right now. "I love you".

He cries then, and I lean over and rest my cheek against his, telling him without words that I'll be here for him, every step of the way.

**I think one of the hardest things in life is regret. It's hard to wonder if you could have done things differentely, and it's even harder to know you could have, but didn't. Just take a moment and think about what's important to you. **


End file.
